Chapter Thirty-Three
Jessica
After I finished setting the table, I told Mama I was going to check on Ruthie, then change for dinner. But when I looked in my closet at all the unshapely dresses, I wanted to cry.
But it was either one of them or yoga pants, and since I knew my parents would frown upon that—I opted for the least frumpy dress hanging up.
It was mint green, so the color flattered my hair—which I quickly curled and styled. And even though I’d refused to wear any when Kevin had come to dinner, I dabbed on some lip gloss.
After examining my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but sigh out loud at how dowdy I looked.
Why would Alan want to marry someone as mousy as me?
The answer seemed obvious—he felt sorry for me.
As much as that realization pained me, it was still a better alternative than being the next Mrs. Roberts or being disowned.
I pinched my cheeks so they’d have some color, spritzed my wrists with perfume I’d gotten for Christmas in tenth grade, then kissed a sleeping Ruthie’s forehead before heading downstairs.
I could hear voices coming from the dining room, so I walked in there. My gaze immediately found Alan’s, and he stopped with his water glass midway to his lips.
“You look beautiful.”
I knew that wasn’t true, but my parents did raise me to have some manners, so I gave him a polite smile and said, “Thank you.”
“That’s a good color for you, honey,” my mom added as I sat down next to Alan.
My dad asked Alan how the Red Sox were doing this season, and I held my breath as I sent up a prayer that Alan was a baseball fan.
I hadn’t thought to brief him about my father’s likes and dislikes.
Alan casually threw his arm along the back of my chair, when he replied, “They made a lot of questionable trades at the deadline, so I’m not optimistic about their playoff chances this year. But I see the Braves have a good shot.”
Good answer.
Wait. How does he know my dad’s a Braves’ fan?
Maybe Papa had the game playing on mute in the living room.
Considering Alan was not a member of our church and had—presumably—asked my dad permission to marry me, my parents were surprisingly hospitable all through dinner.
Especially since he kept caressing the top of my arm in front of them.
Maybe they hadn’t noticed.
But I sure had. I broke out in goosebumps every time his fingers traced tiny circles along my biceps. And more than once, I found myself fighting the urge to rub against him like a cat in heat.
I helped Mama clear the dinner dishes, and when I came back to ask the men about dessert, Alan said, “I thought you and I could go for ice cream instead.”
My eyes flew to my father’s face. I fully expected to find him wearing a scowl, but instead he was smiling and nodding his approval.
It felt like a trap. We’d brought a blueberry pie—surely Papa had to be suspicious about why Alan didn’t want to stay and have some.
“I probably shouldn’t. I’m going to need to nurse Ruthie soon.”
“We’ll take her with us.”
****
Alan
Jess hemmed and hawed, and I wondered if she’d changed her mind, so I continued, “But if you’d rather not…”
“No, I want to. I just don’t want to take Ruthie out this late at night.”
Carol suggested, “Why don’t you wait until after you’ve fed her and then go? She’ll be fine with us.”
That seemed to surprise Jessica. “Really?”
Ed chimed in. “Yeah, of course.”
Jess eyed her parents warily, which led me to believe they weren’t normally this helpful. If I wasn’t dying to be alone with her, I might be more insistent we take Ruthie with us. If she didn’t want the baby in public, we could always grab something in the drive through and take it back to Brian’s.
Actually… that was a great idea anyway.
When Ruthie’s cries came over the baby monitor, Jess murmured, “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Bring her down here.”
She stole a glance at her parents before she mumbled, “Oh, it’s easier if I just feed her in my room.”
“But I can’t help you when you’re in your room.” I looked over at Ed and Carol. “Unless your parents don’t mind if I go up with you.”
Carol’s mouth dropped open. “Um…” but Ed replied, “I don’t see the harm.”
Jessica and her mom both snapped their head in unison to stare at Ed.
Before he could change his mind, I softly chuckled as I put my hand at the small of Jess’s back and guided her toward the stairs where Ruthie’s cries grew louder.
“Come on, babe.”
****
Jessica
Babe?
I was obviously in another dimension. That was the only explanation why, after calling me “babe,” Alan was walking me upstairs to my bedroom with my parents’ blessing.
Once we reached my doorway, he told me, “Get comfortable,” before crossing the room to Ruthie’s crib in the corner.
“Hey, baby girl,” he cooed as he picked her up. “I’ll bet you’re starving. Don’t worry, angel. Your beautiful mama’s going to feed you.”
Again with the beautiful.
I hadn’t felt beautiful earlier, but that was the second time he’d called me that, so I was coming around to the idea.
I got situated in the glider, and he gently placed Ruthie in my arms, then quickly glanced away like he had the other day in Lainey’s office.
“I promise I won’t flash you or anything. And you don’t have to tell me I’m beautiful when it’s just us.”
He looked back at me with furrowed brows, then put his index finger to his lips, and with his other hand, pointed to the baby monitor.
Oh, that explains it.
“You are beautiful.” Then he leaned closer to whisper in my ear, “And I’d love it if you flashed me.”
Holy heck, is it hot in here?
I think even my toes were blushing.
Alan, however, didn’t seem affected at all.
He casually walked around my room, looking at the framed pictures I had on every flat surface.
There were a few of me with my siblings when we were younger, and there used to be a lot of my small group of girlfriends—but they’d all been replaced by pictures of Ruthie or our family dog, Lady, the beagle we’d had to put to sleep almost a year ago at the ripe old age of eighteen.
I’d loved Lady—we’d grown up together.
We’d been going to adopt another dog, but then I’d told my parents I was pregnant. I think not getting a new dog was part of my punishment.
Not long after, my girlfriends stopped texting me back, and I was the only one posting in our group chat.
I think I missed Lady more than my girlfriends.
Alan pulled a picture off my dresser and stared at it for a second.
“Is this when Ruthie was born?”
“They’d just put her in my arms for the first time.”
He continued looking at it. “I can’t imagine what an amazing feeling that must have been.”
“There were a lot of emotions. I was in awe of suddenly holding this little human being that had been inside of me for nine months and also scared out of my mind that I was now responsible for keeping her alive and happy.” Mindful of the baby monitor, I added, “I’m grateful my parents have been so supportive. ”
I made a motion for him to shut the baby monitor off, which he did, then he turned to me and said, “Now tell me the truth.”
“I did—for the most part.”
It was only partly a fib. So supportive was debatable.
I was grateful that they’d been willing to let me continue living with them and support me financially. Emotionally, however… well, that was the questionable part.
But beggars can’t be choosers.
“Ruthie and I are never hungry or cold, and that’s because of my mom and dad. I thought I’d figure the rest out once I had my degree.”
He filled in, “But then you were kicked out of school for having Ruthie without the benefit of marriage.”
“Yeah.”
Alan was quiet as he put the picture back on the dresser.
“Do you want to go back to that school?”
“I’d like to.”
“What about transferring to another college?”
“I never even considered it, since my parents were so dead set against me going to college—period. The only reason they finally let me go was because I agreed to attend PCO.”
“Well, maybe your husband will have other ideas.”